Grady’s head disappeared as he exited the ladder to give me room to come down. Handing him the frame, I turned and made careful steps on the wobbly wood.
I smiled when I noticed my camera already hooked around his neck. “Going through my things?”
He dipped his head as he pulled the strap off and handed it to me. “Figured if you were going to say no, I could sway you with the thought of an entire gymnasium full of people to photograph.”
I heaved a sigh. “Aunt Fran told you about her crazy idea?”
“It’s not crazy, and yes.” He laid a hand on my back to steer me toward the stairs. “You and I left LA because we were chained to desks that were sucking the souls from our bodies. I think this is the perfect thing for you to put it back where it belongs.”
His words had a strange effect on my body, given what I’d just read in Rose’s journal. If what I suspected was true, Green Valley was the catalyst for something much bigger than either of us had bargained for.
“And you’re going to find yours out in the forest and the mountains?” I asked him.
“Yup. Now let’s go jam with the locals.”
Chapter 37 Tucker
Under normal circumstances, I had no problem with a quiet night at home. I’d lived by myself since I finished law school, in a small two-bedroom house just outside of downtown Green Valley.
But that night, for some reason, I was edgy and restless. The silence around me produced a discomfort that I wasn’t used to. I found myself flipping channels without a single thing holding my interest. Picking up the book I’d been trying to read for the past couple weeks was no more successful.
After the awkward encounter with Glenn and Grace, we’d both lost our mood for dessert, and I’d dropped Magnolia off at her house with a soft kiss on the lips and an explanation about needing a good night’s sleep before my day at work. If my excuse didn’t sit well with her, it was nothing she questioned out loud.
The truth was that I couldn’t shake something about that run-in with Grace.
It made no sense that I felt guilty for introducing her to Magnolia.
But even that was a lie I kept telling myself.
And that’s why the quiet rankled, why it sat like an ill-fitting shirt over my body, because sitting alone without anything to distract me, I knew why I felt guilty.
Standing with my girlfriend’s hand on my arm, I couldn’t escape the truth. I wasn’t just interested in Grace because of her reaction to me.
I was fascinated by her.
I was attracted to her.
Attraction felt like a mild word, something too innocent to be dangerous, like noticing a beautiful woman when you passed her on the street. There was nothing wrong with that.
But I was beyond the threshold of easy explanation, and I knew it. I’d known it since I drove her home, I just couldn’t admit it until tonight.
The cover of my book snapped shut like a gunshot before I tossed it roughly onto the coffee table.
Pushing from my chair, I stood and paced my living room, my hands on my hips and my breath sawing in and out of my lungs.
I couldn’t be there, in the still, empty home by myself, because I’d allow my mind to run in loops.
Before I knew where I was driving, I was backing my truck out of the garage and out onto the dark road, the beams of my headlights cutting a stark path.
My phone stayed silent as I drove through town and let the breeze clear my head, because there wasn’t really anyone who might call me on a random weeknight. Not that Magnolia and I discussed it much, but because of how young we were when we started dating, and how quickly it got serious, we left high school as each other’s best friend.
We navigated college together, with me going on to law school, and her starting a job for her father. Moving out of our parents’ homes and on our own, the two of us had each other.
There were guys I knew in a friendly capacity, that I’d share a drink with if I saw them at Genie’s Country Western Bar, that I’d talk sports with, discuss work on a surface level if I ran into them at a jam session.
A jam session.
With a quick glance at the rearview mirror, I flipped a U-turn in the road and headed back down the winding, tree-lined road toward the community center. I’d get there at the tail end, but I knew they’d still be playing.
Loud music, abundant laughter, and a gymnasium full of people to distract me from my thoughts were exactly what I needed.
The parking lot was packed to the gills, and I found a questionable parking spot at the end of a row, my truck straddling the grass. My boots crunched on the gravel, the unmistakable sounds of bass and banjo and a deep, lilting harmony from Winston singing voices echoed out of the propped open doors. Light and laughter spilled from it too, and I let out a breath, knowing I made the right choice in getting out of the house.
I smiled at a few people as I entered into the buoyant atmosphere, shook hands with Drew Runous as he approached.
“There’s a face we don’t see here often,” he yelled over the music.
I slapped him on the back as he disappeared into the crowd. There were tables set up along the side, with white tablecloths and large pitchers of lemonade and water. I could’ve gone for something stronger, but that was my own problem. On the table was a framed picture of a smiling, gap-toothed little girl, the eight-year-old of a family I knew from church. She had some
